


Gently, Softly

by ThirteenSocks



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: But it’s resolved in chapter 5, Confessions, Fertility Issues, Future:, Happy Ending, Heavy Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, No beta: we die like men, Omega Keith (Voltron), Pregnant Keith (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-06-27 15:09:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15687921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThirteenSocks/pseuds/ThirteenSocks
Summary: Keith chews on his lip. The pounding in his heart is drumming a rapid beat. He can feel the blood pulse in his veins. Hunk’s hand feels like it’s burning, the good kind of burning, like campfires and candles. And then Hunk’s eyes meet his. The actual candle, the one burning, plays it’s flame across Hunk’s eyes. The light twinkles off the shine in his eyes, and the wetness of his lips. There’s a conversation being had, Keith can feel it. He’s not great with nonverbals, but he can feel it.Hunk gets back on the bed slowly, climbing on in front of Keith, and moving until Keith is forced to fall back. But Hunk catches his head, cradling it in a strong arm.Keith’s breath dies before it can be breathed.





	1. Chapter 1

It takes Keith by surprise.

 

He’s having some well-earned alone time with Hunk after training. He’d gone head-to-head with the man, their staves clanking and screeching as they collide and ricochette off each other. Hunk has sweat beading at his forehead, concentration and determination dug deep in his brows. Breaths rattle and expand his entire chest, adding an intimidation to the man who is usually so meek. They’ve lost their shirts long ago. It’s in the staring, the jolt of lightning that strikes and rip through Keith at seeing, and taking in, the sight of Hunk, that Keith loses balance.

 

Hunk rushes in for a blow, it’s more power than speed, but Keith lost the focus needed to dodge it, so instead he’s thrown against the floor, back connecting heavy with the floor. He cries out in pain.

 

”Keith!” Hunk’s immediately to Keith’s side.

 

”I-” Keith starts, it’s hard to talk with the wind knocked out of him, ”’m okay.”

 

Hunk doesn’t look convinced, at least, not when Keith’s vision gets a lock on him.

 

He brushes Keith’s bangs away.

 

”Warm.” Hunk’s hand is warm on his forehead. Keith tries to blink away the blurry spots in his vision. His hearing cuts out, only catching a few words here and there. He feels funny, like he’s floating.

 

”I’ve... you.”

 

The world is spinning and he tries to find grounding, but he can’t tell which way is up.His head falls sideways, much to his confusion, and his cheek bumps against something soft. Something moving. And warm. His body is being scrunched up. ” ’unk?” It’s hard to hear over the static, but he hears something and feels vibrations. Then the thick cloud of haze overtakes him.

 

 

The smell of ammonia is pungent. There’s a beeping to his left that’s steady, if a bit grating. His body feels hot, sweaty, but he’s slightly trembling. Voices are speaking at the edge of his hearing, not anything he can grasp at though. The lights are bright behind closed eyes, so he doesn’t bother to open them.

 

Keith’s hand is lifted from where it’s resting.

 

”.. awake. I’m sorry, I didn’t- I didn’t realize I’d been hitting so hard or that- I mean you’re always so fast, I thought you’d... Sorry.”

 

At least it’s close enough to make out. It’s Hunk’s voice.

 

Keith groans but opens his eyes despite. It’s as bright as he expected, and he’d shut his eyes again, if not for the man next to him, nor Keith’s need to capture how the light is outlining him in a halo. His form is both a solace from the blinding, and a sight to behold. Low in his stomach, Keith feels a giddy sense of wonder being born. It’s only his physical weakness that stops it from blossoming outwards as laughter, or some form of goofy smile.

 

It’s Hunk.

 

The fire that was burning in him when he first woke up was the flame of match compared to what’s roaring in him this moment. It’s causing him to sweat, become sticky, all over his body.

 

”You ok, man?” Hunk brushes his bangs away again. Perhaps he’s thinking of getting Keith a hairclip, or hairband. Keith doesn’t really get it.

 

”Hunk.” It feels like talking through a cough. Scratchy.

 

”Hey listen, I just- They were worried about you, the nurses. They said the blunt-force trauma would have left you in shock, like it did, but there’s this unexplained sweating and fever going on. They’ve run tests for dormant infections, maybe internal damage, or bleeding, or-” he chuckles lightly, without much humor, but it’s a clear attempt to ease tension. Keith’s or his, is the question. ”I’m glad you’re awake, at any rate. I’m gonna go let the nurses know. I have some cookies to sneak you as soon as they’ve cleared their tests. I had my spleen rupture when I was like 11, and my mom made these exact kind. They’ll heal you faster, trust me.” The bangs have fallen back because Hunk combs them and tucks them behind Keith’s ears, as best they will stay. Hunk is staring. Something glittering in his eyes that desperately wants to be made known, something that wishes to be worded. But Hunk just sighs, gently, slowly, and warm, and gets up to go inform the nurses.

 

Keith drifts lightly back into slumber with the warmth of Hunk now gone.


	2. Chapter 2

He comes to two more times before fully waking. Both times he’s covered in a thin layer of sweat. He’s achey and his back feels a bit bruised, but it’s the warmth in his veins that worries him. 

When he wakes, it’s morning. The fire inside is quelled, for the most part, leaving only hunger and a collection of strange emotions. 

”Hunk?” Keith sits up slow. He’s glad for the cup of water at his bedside, which he gulps down in one tipping back. 

”Hey, man.” 

”What uh-” he pauses, taking in his surroundings, ”What happened?” 

It seems to be the wrong thing to ask, because Hunk scrubs a hand along his chin, nervous. ”Well, you fell, yeah? And that hurt you but. You’ve been having fevers. The rest of your vitals were good though, so, I thought that maybe this was something to do with your galra side. Oh, Keith, you’re not gonna like this. You’re... going through galra puberty.” 

The cup in his hands is crushed in his fist. The sound of plastic crinckling is loud in the quiet room. Keith breathes in sharp. ”P..puber- Hunk, I’m 24- What are you talking about?” At least Hunk looks as uncomfortable as Keith feels. It’s not a conversation he wants to be having. 

”The sweating thing? Kolivan said it’s...” Hunk takes in the biggest breath, ”a.. heat.” 

Keith tosses the cup at the wastebasket. It lands inside, banging against the metal. 

”... A heat. Like-,” Keith lets his head thunk back against the pillow, ”Like a cat.” 

”You know I did always say galra were like spacecat- That’s not helping, ok. Sorry. Yeah, I would talk to Kolivan. But, otherwise you’re good to go. They’re discharging you later today.” He gets up on his feet and stretches, long and loud, like he’s been sitting there for awhile. He heads for the door, and, almost out of the room, turns to Keith. ”We should... hang out later. Watch a movie or something.” And then leaves. 

Keith sinks back into the pillow, mortified. He’ll sleep until the nurses kick him out.

——

It’s strange, being at the other end of the war. Burned, scar tissue runs from nearly the courner of his eye to the edge of his cheek. There are other marks along his body. As much as there are inside, in his head. They train not because they still fight, but because it gives them a sense of normalcy. There’s a hypervigilance that’s set in deep, that keeping in top form helps abade, if only a bit. 

They’ve seen and experienced so much, too much, more than any civillian could imagine. 

Even with the Earth getting dragged into the war, there are things people can only experience by being there. 

The paladins have taken special comfort in one another since returning. Any differences they had in space have been left to the wayside. Their bonds have become more important since landing back on Earth than they were even in space. 

On his bedside rests bunches of flowers, cards, and a new, leather sketchbook. 

Keith plucks the stack of cards up gingerly. Some of them are from his students, there’s one from Lieutenant Iverson, and even Kolivan gave one. He doubts it’s a tradition of galra, so it’s an appreciated gesture. The first bunch of flowers is signed from Lance, Pidge, and Shiro. The next is from his mom. They’re his dad’s favorite. It makes him tear up. The final bunch is from Hunk. The flowers vibrant reds and yellows, of all different types. The small card attached reads, ”I don’t know much about flower language, but I picked what reminded me of you. They kind of look like fire, huh? - Hunk” 

Keith chuckles. As if he’d have known anyways if they did mean things. 

 

It’s Pidge that comes to get him. ”Be more careful.” She flicks him on the forehead and then sweeps him into a hug. She’s tiny. Even after doing the last of her growing, the top of her head hits his collarbone. He’s not very tall either. What she lacks in height, she makes up for in strength and personality. 

”Hey, Pidge.” He pats her head, before returning the embrace. ”Can’t believe they let you sneak away.” 

”It’s fine. Leifsdotter has the department handled. Now, come on, let’s get you out of here.” 

She lets him drive. It’s just a minivan, filled to the brim with her equiptment in the back, but wheels are wheels, and Keith itches if just a day goes by without him behind them. 

”So, are you gonna start getting acne? You gonna be greasy and smelly?” Pidge props her feet on the dashboard. It is her car. 

”Have new, strange feelings?” He eyes her from the courner of his vision. 

”Oh, yuck. Keith.” She makes gagging noises. ”If I lose it, you are paying the upholstery.” 

He snorts. 

The radio plays softly as their banter lulls into companionable silence. The desert seems to stretch on for miles and miles with no civilization. It’s a wonder there’s a hospital out there. The sun is setting, casting a glow on the tall rocks that line either side of the partially paved road. 

Pidge reaches between them and rolls down the windows from the center console. 

”Sometimes, all I wanted up there, was to feel a breeze. I wanted sand in my hair, dirt under my fingernails, and the wind blowing in my face.” It’s melancholy. She’s speaking like she’s reading Keith’s mind. Space only made them long for Earth more. 

He pulls into their driveway. Every vehicle accounted for. There’s comfort in living with the others who fought in those metal lions. They have their own little commune, safe and private in the desert. Close enough for no more than an hour’s drive to the Garrison, but far enough to feel comfortable that they can train or else go through flashbacks without the eyes of the public. It may not be forever, but they’re only a few years out from the war, and it’s what everyone needs. Whether they’ll willingly admit it or not.

 

”Keith’s home!” Lance comes bounding out of the kitchen, smugness creeping over his expression. He stops just short of running into Keith. He looks over Keith. It’s when his hands settle on his hips that Keith knows to brace himself for whatever he’s about to say next. ”Does Keith look taller to you?” His body is aligned towards Pidge, but his eyes are watching Keith. 

”Lance!” Unfortunately, his voices cracks on the word. 

The smirk grows a tad, before Lance softens. ”Hey, man. We’re finishing up dinner in the kitchen. Korean barbeque.” 

Some things never change. 

Lance yanks him by the front of his shirt and does a quick one-arm-patting-his-back hug, and slips back into the kitchen. 

Some things do. 

Keith slips out of his shoes and into the slippers by the door. It was a fight getting everyone to learn to do it, but Shiro and him had been able to team up to convince them of the merits of no-shoes-inside. Pidge is usually the worst offender, walking right in with mud caked to the bottom of her boots, but there’s an unspoken agreement that if anyone can bend the rules there, it’s Pidge. 

”Better than what they had at the hospital.” He grunts. 

The sound of lively music, and equally lively chatter, comes out from the kitchen. There’s a pot sizzling, Lance and Shiro belting out the chorus to Despacito, Hunk and Romelle in some heated discussion, as much as either of them could get heated, and Allura and Coran making the odd comment in Altean. 

Keith and Pidge enter the kitchen. 

Pidge waves and pulls back a seat at the bar, immediately getting lost in something on her tablet. 

Keith’s grateful that they don’t stop. After many years, they understand his dislike of attention. So it’s mostly smiles and nods. Hunk makes a move to get up from his seat, but, for some reason, stops. He waves instead, eyes refusing to meet Keith’s, and returns to conversation with Romelle. Two parts of Keith heat up at the same time, one part being his face, the other being somewhere he’d rather not acknowledge at the moment.

Dinner is a rowdy affair. 

Despite Lance’s initial taunting, neither him, nor the others, bring up the elephant in the room. Except Coran, who begins on a speech of how it’s natural and, Allura is quick to cut him off, ”It’s not polite talk for the dinner table.” She chastises. Coran barks laughter and goes about how it’s nonsense that something as natural as this is impolite. Keith just shovels in his food and excuses himself the second he finishes. 

 

”Keith.” Hunk’s hand lays heavy on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. His voice is low. ”We still gonna watch something?” 

Keith’s mouth is dry. They always cuddle when they watch a movie. ”Yeah.” 

”Sweet.” Another squeeze and then the hand, large and warm, is gone. ”I’ll set up in my room, since, no offense, but my t.v. Is way better.” 

Keith chuckles and playful smacks Hunk’s shoulder. He’s a bit too distracted to get offended anyways. Especially watching Hunk go in front, calves thicker than Keith’s neck, draw his eye, most of Hunk’s legs being exposed due to the loose shorts he’s wearing. Keith’s gaze doesn’t stop there, either, it traces up Hunk’s form. Sturdy thighs, a plentiful backside, and broad, broad shoulders that hold muscled arms. It’s only when the man disappears into the room, when he’s out of view, that Keith catches himself staring. To which he smacks his face in palm. 

Hunk’s room is more comfortable than Keith’s. Where Keith doesn’t have many posessions, Hunk has his space filled with trinkets and keepsakes. The room feels designed, from the matching furniture, the carefully made bed with it’s pile of throw pillows arranged just so, to the art and pictures hung up on the wall. Keith is in a few of those pictures. A candle burns, filling the air with the scent of vanilla and spicey. It’s heady and Keith has to take a few breaths as he eases onto the bed. 

He sits upright, at least until Hunk is also sitting. Even though the thought occured to Keith to lay on his back, and watch as Hunk slowly approached, throwing one leg ov- 

”Keith? C’mon, let’s get in position while it’s still the credits.” 

Position? 

Keith nearly chokes. Right, cuddling. They’re... cuddling. He crawls back to the pillows and let’s his head rest on Hunk’s chest, hand resting on his stomach, drawing lazy circles. 

Hunk’s breathing makes his chest rise, and Keith enjoys the movement. The t.v. screen flickers, though Keith is hardly paying attention. He’s between falling asleep and moving his hand just a little lowe- 

No. He huffs. 

”Something wrong?” Hunk turns his eyes to Keith. 

”No. Nothing’s- It’s nothing. I’m good.” Which sounds as unconvincing as it feels. Instead of digging the hole deeper, he decides to be quiet. He knows Hunk will let it drop. 

Some romantic comedy is playing. It makes Keith ache a bit. He’s always regarded Hunk as a friend. Hunk supported him when, largely, others didn’t. He’s an impressive man, grown so far from the scared boy who wanted to run from conflicts. He taught Keith that it wasn’t about being afraid, but about continuing the fight, the goal, to push on, while afraid. There are few things that make him afraid, though. And, uttering a confession to Hunk, is one of them. It could take away all they’ve built. 

Keith curls in closer. 

It could take away times like this. The hugs, the laying next each other, the smiles... 

Keith’s hand curls into a fist. 

”Oh, goodness. Dude, like, can you believe Michael? He’s going to give up Kate, just because she’s wanting to take the internship.” 

”Yeah, he should let her go after what she wants.” 

Hunk sighs and gently nudges Keith off his chest. ”Ok,” he clicks the remote to oause it, ”I wasn’t sure. But, there are no ’Kate’s in this movie, and that’s not even close to being the plot. Keith, talk to me.” 

”Wha- I don’t- I have no idea what you’re-” He’s upright, sat stiff now. 

”Keith, don’t... don’t keep it in. You’ve been weird since we were training and, I’m. I’m just... Listen, it’s ok if you’re spooked.” 

”Spooked? Of course, I’m spooked.” 

”Yeah, I could tell. So, it’s ok, I get it. It makes you uncomfortable.” 

Keith snorts. ”Duh.” 

Something on Hunk’s face falls. His tongue creates a bubble in his cheek. ”Y..you don’t have to be my friend anymore.” 

Keith feels like he was smacked across the face. He lunges for Hunk, who’s starting to get up off the bed, and grips his hand firmly. ”No, Hunk! Please! What are you talking about?” 

”... My crush on you?” 

He blinks. 

He blinks again. 

”... Hunk? You have- You have a crush? On me?” 

Hunk nods and makes to shake Keith off, but Keith holds tighter. ”Don’t go.” His voice is rough. ”I thought you were talking about the puberty thing. Hunk, I- Me too.” 

”Oh.” 

Keith chews on his lip. The pounding in his heart is drumming a rapid beat. He can feel the blood pulse in his veins. Hunk’s hand feels like it’s burning, the good kind of burning, like campfires and candles. And then Hunk’s eyes meet his. The actual candle, the one burning, plays it’s flame across Hunk’s eyes. The light twinkles off the shine in his eyes, and the wetness of his lips. There’s a conversation being had, Keith can feel it. He’s not great with nonverbals, but he can feel it. 

Hunk gets back on the bed slowly, climbing on in front of Keith, and moving until Keith is forced to fall back. But Hunk catches his head, cradling it in a strong arm. 

Keith’s breath dies before it can be breathed. 

Hunk is over him, framing him between thighs, and slowly, so very slowly, lowering his face to Keith’s, who is still being held semi up-right by Hunk. 

”Keith.” Oh God, Keith is trembling, Hunk’s voice is low. ”Can I kiss you?” He stops just before their lips can brush. His breath washes over Keith. 

”Please.” It’s desperate, but the way Hunk has him, blocked off from the outside world, from any pair of eyes that judge, or lips that would mock, Keith feels safe to be so. ”Please.” He repeats, because the beauty of being vulnerable is not lost to him, not lost to Hunk. 

Their lips meet, finally, and it’s indescribable.


	3. Chapter 3

Keith thinks its both cliché and, maybe somewhat wrong, to describe it as fireworks. Fireworks are loud, explosive, and unpredictable. This kiss is anything but. Its gentle, its home, its a sigh of relief. Its coming inside during snowstorm, to a fire in the fireplace, the smell of gingerbread baking in the oven, and curling up on the couch with a cup of spiced tea. Hunk's lips are soft as they slot and re-slot around Keith's. It's passionate, but slow. Neither of them seem to want it to end. But eventually, Keith loses his breath and has to pull away.

 

He raises an arm to hold Hunk's head, pressing their foreheads together.

 

There's no need to speak. No words to say aloud that it's more than a crush for both of them. Keith doesn't need social graces to understand what Hunk spoke through his lips. Hunk's always been refreshingly easy to read.

 

Hunk rolls to the side and pulls Keith in to his chest. Whom cuddles in.

 

"I know words are hard, so don't feel obligated to respond. I just... Wanted to say that, uh, wow. I've thought about it before but wow. That was... Yeah."

 

Keith taps his fingers on Hunk. ”Are we a thing?”

 

Hunk chuckles warmly, and Keith can feel it where his head is nestled against Hunk’s chest. ”If you’ll have me.”

 

”Of course.” Keith hopes Hunk can hear the smile as he’s speaking. ”Can we.. do that again? The uh, kissing that was nice.”

 

”I couldn’t agree more, my alien boyfriend.”

 

”Kiss me before I change my mind.”

 

They fumble this time, too busy laughing to concentrate. It’s sloppy and terrible. And so, so, so very good.

 

* * *

 

 

They take it slow.

 

Which is to say, they’re adult men with moderate to high sex drives, they’ve been out saving the universe, and Keith has lost count of the times he’s dreamed of climbing on Hunk and riding him harder than he’s ever rode his hoverbike. He’s caught glimpses before, he knows Hunk is thick in more ways than one.

 

It’s two weeks when their kissing gets heated, really heated, and Keith is humping Hunk’s leg. It’s the kind of desperation Keith will show no one else. Everyone who has sought him expected him to be as fiery and commanding in the bedroom as out.

 

Relief comes when Hunk whispers in Keith’s ear about how he’d like to take him. He cums, embarassingly, in his pants, as Hunk talks about pounding him.

 

”H..how,” Keith is trying to speak through breaths that come short and shallow, ”How did you know?”

 

Hunk is smart.

 

Not just book smart.

 

”That you want to bottom? Well. Mostly just ’cus I know you. But, there was a slight margin of error there. So I just really, really, hoped it was true. I mean, don’t get me wrong. You can uh.. definetly stick it in me. But.” He chuckles, brushing Keith’s bangs away, the ever un-winnable fight. ”What I mean to say is, I just... Wanna be inside you.”

 

Keith’s breath hiccups.

 

”I love you.” Keith does. He loves Hunk so much. ”Maybe not tonight but- I want it too. Hunk, I wanna feel you. Inside me.” The words pull at him to say. He knows it’s sappy and dumb and overly romantic. It’s cheesy and- but the thought of it... Hunk stretching him gently with fingers, preparing Keith to take all of Hunk’s girth, then the feeling of opening up, by Hunk, for Hunk, the bliss of the tugging, and finally, Hunk finishing hot and satisfied inside, it’s wonderful. It makes Keith ache and not just physically.

 

 

 

”Uh, Keith?” Hunk says with the kind of tone you never want to hear when someone’s got their mouth poised to devour your ass. ”Did you pre-lube?”

 

”Oh. Yeah, sorry I know- it’s a lot. Probably more than normal? I just...” Ok, so he’s a little self-concious about how wet he gets. And Hunk being silent isn’t helping. ”Yeah, I have to wear pads sometimes. Every few weeks it just gets pretty bad- Hunk, please talk. You’re scaring me.”

 

”Keith...” He draws the word out like he’s trying to buy himself time for his next words. ”When does this happen?” He’s staring and it’s really making Keith uncomfortable to be on his back, folded in half, with his most intimate part exposed.

 

Of course, for as horrified as it’s making him, it’s also a warmth tingling at his extremities.

 

Which, naturally, only lubes him up more.

 

His cheeks are burning in shame. ”Sorry, I’m just... I really want this.”

 

”Oh.” Hunk says. As if there were a question being asked. ”Do you get wet when you’re turned on? Because, uh, how to say it, most humans- well, full humans, I mean, like, one human plus one human making a baby, they uh don’t. Uhm. Naturally lubricate. Well, vaginas do but.”

 

”Look, if you don’t wan- fuck.” He hisses and squeezes his eyes shut. Hunk’s tongue is lapping gently at his entrance. There’s no room to hold thoughts about his heritage or what’s normal for a human, because Hunk is committing to his promise to eat Keith.

 

It’s toe-curling. The flat of Hunk’s tongue brushes Keith, moist and warm. He switches between long, languid licks, and quick, assaulting thrusts. Keith takes hold of the sheets around him, if only to stop himself from pushing Hunk down on him. ”Hunk.” The sounds drag ragged from his throat. ”Fuck.” Sharp teeth rake just barely against him, followed by gentle, soothing kisses. Keith cries out. His whole body is warming, like he’s coming under a fever. Hunk spreads him wide with a firm grip. Keith opens for him, and loses coherency at how much deeper Hunk can reach with his tongue.

 

The strange fever from before knocks into Keith, and he’s thrown far from coherency.

 

”Uh, Keith?” The words come into his mind as if they travel through sap.

 

He can only whine, when the warmth retreats. ”Please. It- I- hurts. Hunk, it hurts.”

 

”Hold on, I’m gonna.. uh. I’m getting Kolivan. I think-”

 

”No, don’t go! Please just fuck me.”

”Keith, not like this.”

 

Keith grits his teeth, letting out a weak, ”fine.” He buries his face against the sheets. The urge to rut against the comforter is kept at bay on by the thought of Kolivan seeing him do it.

 

* * *

 

 

”So, you’re saying, don’t mind if I paraphrase here, that Keith, can have a baby?”

 

”Don’t say it like that.” Keith keeps his eyes trained on the cup of tea in front of him. It’s an herbal supplement, filled with ingredients he can’t hope to pronounce, nor even locate the star system they originate from. It’s slightly bitter, not unlike the bite of coffee, or dark chocolate, but it’s soothed whatever it was making him incoherent.

 

”Dude, it’s cool. Like, actually, it’s kind of neat. I mean, I’ve always wondered whar childbirt-”

 

”Hunk.” The tea is cooling in its mug, which is disappointing for the comfort he was taking in it.

 

”Yeah, ok. Sorry. I just mean,” Hunk rests a hand over Keith’s, where it’s curled around the mug, ”that I support you. You got through finding out you’re alien. Now, you’re just finding out you’re a little more alien than we originally thought. And that’s ok.”

 

Kolivan, who has been quiet since revealing the details of what was happening to Keith, shifts. His blank expression is changed for one ever slightly softer. His head is tilted a bit.

 

Keith looks at Hunk, to whom he offers a small smile, and then back to Kolivan.

 

Kolivan reaches forward and squeezes Keith’s shoulder gently.

 

”Thanks. I just- It’s gonna take some time.”

 

* * *

 

 

As it turns out, with an alien condition, there are also alien remedies. Which means Keith has options. ”Conception between humans and galra is not easy, though one of your heritage may find it that such is not the case.” Kolivan had told him. It did little to quell his nerves that any unprotected sex, the type he was so hoping to have with Hunk, could lead to things they’re not prepared for.

 

There was a form of contraception, Kolivan explained, but taking it so early in Keith’s puberty may harm the chances of ever getting pregnant.

 

The thoughts buzz around his head, even though he’s exhausted, collapsed atop Hunk, hazy after riding the man ’til an explosive orgasm.

 

They’re connected, stomach to stomach, the sweat sticky between them. The bliss of connection which heavy, needy, and desperate, a lull that outweighs the discomfort of being stuck together. Keith imagines what it would be like to be unable to lay on his belly. Just how solid would it feel? Would their baby like to kick? How happy would Hunk be fulfill any and all cravings Keith and the baby had?

 

Keith’s hand closes into a fist.

 

”What if I said I want to have a baby with you? As in... Y’know. Yours. Like, your baby, growing in me. Or, I guess, our baby. I mean-”

 

Hunk rubs his fingers along Keith’s sides. ”Are you saying you wanna be pregnant?” He sounds thoughtful, fingers gently wedging between them to rest on Keith’s abdomen.

 

”I- No, that’s not- yes. I, yeah.” Keith thunks his forehead against Hunk’s chest. ”Yeah.”

 

”You’re so beautiful, Keith. What your body can do? That’s amazing. You’re amazing. It’s ok. I can’t say I haven’t thought about it either.”

 

”Yeah, well, look who’s talking handsome.”

 

Hunk gasps and lifts Keith a few inches away from him. ”How dare you? I know you are but what am I?”

 

Keith snorts. ”Oh, it is so on.”

 

”You talk big game for someone who can barely move right now.”

 

”I’m crushing you.” He wiggles his shoulders from Hunk’s grasp, collapsing back down on the man.

 

”You’re doing a great job. Crushing me gently, softly. You’re like some mastermind. Luring me in with the pretense of cuddles.”

 

”’xactly.”

 

”I can’t believe I ever thought you were anything but... this.”

 

”Wha’ was ’at you said?” His cheek is smooshed against Hunk’s chest.

 

Hunk kisses the top of his head. ”I love you.”

 

”Yeah, yeah, y’ softie. I love you too.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried (and failed) to not make it squicky with the slick. But also.  
> But  
> Also
> 
> They’re dorks at the end so like. Forgive my transgressions, basically. 
> 
>  
> 
> Take care, thank you for all the lovely comments and kudos, y’all’re amazing and I’m so excited to bring more fic to the Heith community. 
> 
> Have a great weekend, fam <3  
> Socks


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains angst. I promise you this story ends happy, whatever happens.

”Come on, come on, turn left. Turn left.” The boy piloting the simulator has the controls tilted as far right as they go. His entire body is leant into the maneuver. A warning flashes red on the screen, and sirens blare around them. His crew is fast working maintenance of the bay, several systems having been damaged by the impact of an asteroid.

 

”Breathe.” It’s an imperative, but it’s spoken gently. ”Focus.” Keith speaks over the comms. ”Look at bottom left of the screen. What do you see?”

 

”I- I don’t- I can’t-” he takes the advice, his whole body moving with the sound of his breath over the comms. ”There’s some debris. It- Wait. That’s a funny shape.”

 

”Good. Ok. Now think. How can you use that to clear the field?” Keith’s already calculated the move. Maybe not with math, but surely with instinct. The cadet has shown promise in that area, and Keith wants to test his ability to trust in that, and if he’s gutsy enough to follow through regardless.

 

”It’s an almost spherical object. That means... assuming I’ve got our angle correct against the hole in the field, and that.. uh, thing...”

 

Yes, keep going. You got it. Keith fights the urge to drum his fingers against the table. The thrill of quick changes in trajectory, dodging things, and coming out the end of a seemingly in-navigable task, has him expecting to reach over and find his bayard locked into Red.

 

”Fuck it. Everyone on deck, secure yourselves, we’re going in for a dive.”

 

The simulator ship creaks, there’s no change in velocity, not of this magnitude, that doesn’t bring with it friction. Keith holds the headphones away from himself, the crew screaming in tandem. He flips off the switch that connects to the speakers of the whole cabin, leaving only the mics set up around the cadet, who is quiet in concentration.

 

On papers, it’s a trig problem. But to him, much like Keith, it’s a navigation system whom tugs at the place deep in his belly.

 

The screen shows them bounce off the spherical object and get flung beyond the field, both forward and around.

 

”Holy shit.” The cadet laughs, more in disbelief than celebration. ”Shit.”

 

 

”Commander Kogane, sir.”

 

Keith lets the cadets know their scores will posted later that afternoon. It takes great restraint to not whoop and holler over the comms with the rest of the crew. But with age comes patience. So, at 27, he just lets the joy radiate from his smile. ”Continue, m’am.”

 

”I have a hunch from the look on your face, but, to confirm, where would you sort these cadets?” She scribbles on a clipboard that she’s balanced on her hip.

 

”I want to see all of them in my fighter class come Monday. Thank you, General Ferason. I’m off to lunch.”

 

* * *

 

 

”How’s the most handsome man in the world?” Keith smiles down at the videochat. There are kids, being kids, in the background. One girl is walking around showing off her ”dak green” crayon. Another teacher is trying to coax a boy off the desk, who is proclaiming himself to be ”king of the island”. It’s a cacophony of youth and energy.

 

Hunk is chuckling. ”About to work some magic. Hold up.” The phone is set down and Keith can’t see anything but the ceiling. Hunk can be heard in the background rounding up kids.

 

The other teacher comes into view. She has wrinkles at the courners of her eyes and mouth. Skin that speaks to years of bright smiles. ”Mr. Garrett, I’ve heard so much about you. I don’t know how your husband does it, but he really has a way with the kids.”

 

”Aren’t I the luckiest man in the universe?”

 

She smiles the smile you’d expect, warm, and gentle.

 

”I have to go, thanks for all your hard work, m’am. Tell him I love him, ya?” He waves and clicks the end button.

 

”Hey Lovebird 1, how’s Lovebird 2?” It’s Lance.

 

Keith snorts. ”Didn’t hear you come in.”

 

”I get it, I get it. Too busy schmooping the schoompy.” Lance slings an arm around Keith’s shoulder. ”Ugh, ok, to business. I swear I’ve never seen the simulator take this kind of beating. Well, no. A certain show-off I know takes the cake.”

 

”That’s fair.” Keith tears his peanut butter sandwich in half and holds out a piece for Lance. ”The real reason you’re here.”

 

”Keeeeeith. That’s not Hunk’s.” Lance gets to his knees and flops his arms and head onto the desk.

 

”Oh I’m sorry, who’s married to Hunk?” It has no heat to it. ”Well, today’s the first day back at school.”

 

”Ok, but, I’d pay to have watched the showdown between you. It’s like a nice off. ”Oh, Hunk, my husband whom I love, I could not possibly ask you to make me lunch,” Lance deepens his voice, ” ”Keith, my baby boy, I must-”

 

”Oh ew, no. Stop. ’Baby boy?’” Keith plucks the crust from the half that Lance still hasn’t taken, and hands it back.

 

”Ugh gross. Keith, why are you the mom friend?” He whines, but takes it and starts to shovel it in his mouth. He tries to speak around the food, but Keith shushes him and hands over his thermos of tea. Lance raises a brow, tilting his head at Keith as if to say, ”see?”

 

”Yeah, yeah. Well my next breaks in 2 hours, I’ve got some pistachios and walnuts. Now shoo.”

 

* * *

 

 

Their deep in passion, hands roaming each other’s bodies, tongues sliding wet against each other, and breathing is shared as they kiss breathless.

 

Hunk breaks it, only to whisper the words Keith has been dying to hear, ”I’m gonna get you pregnant.”

 

Keith’s toes curl.

 

Talk of baby has been present lately. Something in both of them was screaming that it was time. When Keith approached Hunk to tell him as much, by way of saying he was going to stop taking his birth control, Hunk had scooped him into am embrace that came with a little dance, and tears of joy.

 

”Hold on, ok. I want this to be perfect.” Hunk kisses Keith’s forehead and slowly extracts himself from the bed, and the comforter wrapped around his limbs.

 

Keith chuckles. They’re gonna make a baby.

 

Hunk comes back with a candle, some massage oil, and extra pillows.

 

”Here, lie down on your stomach.” Hunk raises Keith’s hips, slipping a pillow beneath them. Slowly, he unbuckles, unzips, and works Keith’s pants down, along with his boxerbriefs. He reaches beneath Keith, dragging the shirt up so it and his fingers catch along nipples. ”There. I’ll take care of you. Just relax, baby.”

 

Keith hears the popping open of a cap, followed by the squelch of liquid. It’s warm when it touches Keith’s skin. The sigh is instantaneous. It’s worked into his skin with broad strokes. Then two thumbs are pressing deep, rubbing languid circles, between his shoulders, on either side of his spine. It’s a pain at first, like sharp pinching, but Hunk rolls the area around, then goes back to it.

 

He repeats that for the rest of Keith’s shoulders and neck; massaging one area and then another, then back again, like he knows which muscles work in tandem, and the relaxing of one will lead to the other.

 

The oil smells lightly of vanilla and spices, too.

 

The more Hunk works, the more Keith is able to calm, and tune into his senses.

 

The aroma reminds him of Hunk, and their marriage. It’s soft and sweet, but rich in it’s warmth, with a touch of spice here and there.

 

Hunk’s straddling his hips. Everything the man does grounds Keith. He’s a stability to match Keith’s wild, sometimes unpredictable nature. If Keith is adventure, then Hunk is the home at the end of it.

 

He doesn’t realize he’s crying until Hunk is gently hushing him, laying left hand on top of left, and lacing their fingers. Their wedding rings click against each other.

 

”They say massaging releases pent-up emotions and stuff. Everything ok, baby?” Hunk’s lips brush the back of his neck.

 

Keith turns his head, cheek smooshed against the mattress, and looks at Hunk. It’s hard to see through the blurriness of tears, but after all these years, he can feel the concern through the squeezing of his hand, to the tone of Hunk’s voice. ”’m ok. I just.. I love you.”

 

”You’re gonna make me cry. Keith...” there’s a light chuckle, ”I love you too. Like, so much. Like, I’d cross the galaxy in nothing but paladin armor, just out there floating, if that’s what I needed to do to get to you.”

 

He snorts. ”Thank you. It’s good thing I’m right here, then.” He pauses, voice lowering, taking on a gritty texture, ”I have a feeling you’re gonna make me see stars anyway.”

 

Hunk inhales sharply, taking in a courner of his lip to bite. ”Should I keep going?”

 

”Please.”

 

Leaving kisses down Keith’s spine, Hunk scoots down Keith’s legs. His hands leave and then return, cupping his backside, slicked with the massage oil.

 

Keith groans.

 

Hunk teases his hole between massaging. The strength of his hands, his arms, is dizzying.

 

The tension of stress is gone, replaced by another tension.

 

”Should I get your legs, too?”

 

”No.” It’s a whine. He’s not proud of it, and knows Hunk just wanted to tease one out of him, but there’s little else on his mind than getting Hunk inside him.

 

”Alright, alright. Let me lube you up first.” He punctuates it with a light smack to the ass. They’ve tried it dry, and while it sounds sexy in theory, Hunk is huge and in practice had Keith near climbing up the wall just trying to get the head in.

 

Keith turns onto his back. They like facing each other.

 

Hunk walks over to the candle and lights it, then he plucks lube and a condom from the drawer. ”Oh, wait. Shit, I forgot. God it’s been so long since I’ve barebacked you, babe.” He groans, eyes closing, and happily tosses the rubber to the floor.

 

Keith had gone off birth control a few months prior. He wanted to be ready the moment they were ready. Nearing his 28th birthday now, baby fever had settled over him like a near incurable illness, resistant to all but one solution.

 

”Now, where were we?”

 

 

The first push is always hardest.

 

”Breathe, Keith. It’s ok.”

 

Hunk goes slow, entering as gentle as can, then pulling out when he’s moved further than the thrust before. Keith clings tight to him, so it’s a few minutes of rocking in and out before he’s relaxed.

 

”Wow. Shit, you’re- hh- so big.”

 

”You’re just small.” He chuckles.

 

Keith brings his heel down on Hunk’s back.

 

”Ow, ok, ok sorry. Are you ready?”

 

 

Years of practice sees Keith quick to adjust. Any initial discomfort at Hunk’s size is faded away by Hunk’s careful opening of him. Baring down on Hunk is delicious, he’s split so wide open, stuffed so full. Keith can feel the ridge beneath Hunk’s head as it drags Keith out with each thrust. Words escape him, they always do, when they get to this part. He’s near helpless to do much but wiggle hips, meet thrusts, and squeeze down. Making noise is too much wasted energy, too. Instead he breathes sighs and moans, vocalizing only what is forced out of him.

 

Hunk’s thighs, sculpted and thick, are more than just aesthetic.

 

Keith could worship them, fall to his knees and kiss them, because Hunk’s movement is entirely controlled. It’s a quick, powerful punch in, burying all his length deep inside Keith, and then a slow, maddening pull out. Rather than repeated hits to Keith’s prostate, it’s an ever adjusting angle, drawing Keith to arch his back and almost sob, before he’s merciful and ruts against the spot.

 

Keith’s nails draw tracks down Hunk’s back. What he can’t say in words, he carves out across skin. Good. So good. More. There.

 

Keith’s all at once blissed into a peaceful calm, and drawing ever tighter, ever tenser.

 

Hunk’s goal is not to rip a quick orgasm from Keith. He wants to destroy Keith in the best way possible.

 

He bucks up to meet Hunk, drawing every last, precious centimeter in.

 

Neither need to speak, but both know they’re drawing close.

 

Hunk’s leaking pre in Keith, and Keith’s slick is causing crude noises when they meet. It dawns on Keith, through the haze, that Hunk’s pre-cum is spilling freely in him. For the first time in too long, he’s going to be filled with seed. The final nail in the coffin is remembering why.

 

This time Keith does cry out. It’s a near sob, the orgasm exploding all through his body after all the edging. His vision and hearing cut. As the last of him coats their chests, he feels Hunk pulsing, pumping him full of cum. Keith moans around a sigh of relief.

 

He mutters a declaration of love, and spaces out, warmed from head to toe, as Hunk cleans him up, then falls promptly asleep.

 

* * *

 

 

Giddiness bubbles inside Keith as he holds the box in his hands. He knows it’s a little early, that it can take up to a month since conception, for it to be read by tests. For humans at least. But excitement caught the best of him, and he stopped by the convenience store on his way home.

 

Hunk’s in a teacher’s meeting until late in the evening, so Keith thinks it’s a great way

to surprise him.

 

But it’s Keith that ends up being surprised.

 

”Negative?” But he’d felt so.. different the past two weeks. ”I’m- There’s two in here. Let’s... Try again.” Maybe the test is falty.

 

Negative.

 

”Damnit. Got excited for nothing.” He pats his abdomen. ”Gonna have to wait a little longer huh?”

 

He wraps both tests in toilet paper and tosses them in the trash. For a safer measure, he grabs the morning’s newspaper and crumples it up, putting it on top.

 

* * *

 

 

Three weeks pass, he gives it that long, because he doesn’t want a repeat of the first time, and this time Hunk is home.

 

Which ends up being a good thing, when Keith falls into tears at more negatives.

 

”You’re half-galra, maybe gestation just, y’know, takes longer.” Hunk crushes him in a hug.

* * *

 

 

For the next month, Keith takes a test weekly. He and Hunk spend more time in the bedroom.

 

Negative,

Negative,

Negative,

Negative.

* * *

 

 

The following month Keith contacts Kolivan, whom only watches him through the hologram, expression grim, ”Conception between humans and galra is difficult.”

 

They stop having sex for awhile, as it becomes more duty than pleasure or connection. And Keith gets tearful afterward.

* * *

 

 

6 months roll by since the first test and Hunk sits Keith down and, as gently as possible, asks him if it’s possible there’s a fertility issue. Keith storms out of the room.

 

* * *

 

It’s 8 months and Keith is starting to accept he might not be capable.

They’ve started having regular sex again, and there hasn’t been anything but negative yet.

* * *

 

 

11 months and Keith stops testing.

* * *

 

 

12 months and they stop talking about it altogether.

 

They aren’t having a baby, not from Keith. They silently agree to move on.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

”Happy birthday to you.” Everyone is singing, though Lance is definetly belting it the loudest. Pidge is carrying the cake. ”Happy birthday, dear Keith. Happy birthday to you.”

 

Matt, who’s sat besides Keith, elbows him, ”I counted out every candle. 29, you go, you funky little alien.”

 

”Sounds like a fire hazard.”

 

”There’s plenty of ripped, handsome men down at the station. Either way, it’s a win-win, to be honest.” Matt changes to a whisper, ”Fire daddies, Keith. Fire. Daddies.”

 

Keith makes a gagging noise.

 

”Matt, cease and desist.” Pidge eases the cake down in front of Keith.

 

”But, Katie-”

 

”I’ll tell mom about last Christmas.”

 

Matt straightens up in his seat and makes the motion of pulling a zipper over his lips. He looks at Keith, mouthing the phrase.

 

Hunk makes his way next to Keith, bending over to place a kiss on his cheek. Whispering into Keith’s ear, ”A princess cake for my princess.”

 

Keith chuckles and moves his head so he can get a proper kiss on the lips. It lasts a bit longer than is polite, judging by the groans from the rest of the group, but it’s near impossible to settle for a single, quick peck with Hunk. When they part he påats Hunk’s cheek and winks.

 

”Ugh, dude.” Lance wrinkles his nose. ”Quick, someone get the presents. Distract these two or they’ll start humping.”

 

”Don’t give them any ideas, Lance.” Shiro comes out from the kitchen, plates and forks balanced on one arm, floating next to him, and a knife to cut the cake. He rests the plates down and switches the knife to his robotic arm.

 

Matt and Pidge head into the kitchen. They come back out, arms full, and Allura and Coran behind them, also juggling boxes.

 

”Right sorry Number Four, the princess and I were just seeing to wrapping the final gifts.” Coran chimes in.

 

”As expected, there are a plethora of them from the community. We have selected only those we believe you would like to open now, and the rest are stacked neatly inside your guest bedroom.”

 

”Thanks princess, Coran, everyone.”

 

Keith is not one to like being the center of attention. But living with everyone for so long, and having journeyed through space together for longer, it’s easier. He’s more comfortable around them, and they also know his limits. So, after blowing out the candles, with a side comment from Matt about how numerous they were, the group chats among themselves, as Keith opens gifts. It’s bits and baubles, they know anything of fanfare would be something he’d rather open alone, or in private. Keith knows the real reason Coran and Allura were back there was that they were checking each package and selecting which to bring out, then re-wrapping the rest.

 

He thanks everyone again, this time individually.

 

”Alright, cake’s up.” Shiro uses his robotic arm to float each plate to them. ”To Keith.”

 

”To Keith.” They raise their glasses, most filled with champagne, except for Pidge and Corans. Coran because he declared someone had to ”take care of you lot, when you’re as wired as a wizzillian wumberforg in mating season.” Pidge, well.

 

Keith’s happy for her.

 

Really.

 

It just... stings a bit. Even after all this time.

 

Two hands squeeze him gently, Hunk’s on his left leg, and Matt’s on his right shoulder. A look around at their faces, and he knows they know.

 

”Uhm, wow. Yeah. Thanks- uh, saying that a lot. Well,” he clears his throat, hoping it will keep out the tremble, ”Let’s eat and then play some gamestation. Lance, you may have beat me last time but I’m coming for the highscore.”

 

Lance always wears his emotions on his sleeve. He smiles, but it’s sad. Not pity nor sympathy sad. Just. Sad. The ’my good friend is hurting and I can’t help but hurt too’ sad. ”Yeah, man. You’re on.” It’s gentle, lacking the usual feisty bite.

 

Coran saves them, bursting out into stories of birthday parties all across the galaxy, how each one has different traditions than each other.

 

 

 

They play a game of twister. Keith is the one who calls out the moves. Lance protests, saying, ”The birthday boy should play,” to which Keith retorts that it being his birthday means he gets to decide. His clear passion for the game, Keith decides, means Lance can go first.

 

It’s a riot.

 

Coran is stretched over Lance, balancing weight between one arm, and the opposite leg. Lance is squatting, one foot planted over his other, as he’s only afforded a single tile. Shiro is, somehow nicely spaced from them, in a one-armed push-up position. Allura was the first to lose and Pidge is curled up next to Keith, dozing off. Coran sneezes, which sends both him and Lance off their dots. Shiro cheers, striking heroic poses.

 

”Not just number one in height.” He whoops, chanting, ”number one,” over and over.

 

No one who has ever met Shiro has had the courage to tell him he’s a light weight.

 

Including the whole of his team.

 

Hunk and Matt emerge from the kitchen, whispering heatedly. They pause when they see the commotion.

 

”Keith, may we have a moment?” Hunk smiles from the doorway.

 

”We’re here to talk about our Lord and Savio-”

 

Hunk smacks him gently on the back of the head, earning him a thumbs up from Keith.

 

”Sure. I’ll uh, be back. Y’all just...” Keith looks around the room, ”...keep doing what you’re doing. If any of you wake Pidge I’m putting salt in your coffee.” He grabs the blanket that’s draped over the couch and tucks it around her. It’s near moot to tell them, as Pidge sleeps like the dead, especially since she’s become pregnant. But the instinct to say so was hard to quell after a glass of champagne.

 

Keith follows them into the kitchen, where they sit down at the dining table.

 

Hunk serves him some more cake, ”Here, babe, you need to eat if you’re drinking.”

 

”I’m pretty clear right now, but thanks. I could eat so much of this.”

 

They settle down, each with a plate and a cup of juice.

 

”So, Keith. I wanted to wait to give you your actual birthday gift. I figured once you got this, you’d probably need some time.” Matt looks to Hunk, whom nods and hands over a manilla folder that’s thick with papers. ”These are classified, mind you. I got them out because I just so happened to travel with them in the exact blind spot of Iverson. He says it’s a shame Keith will never see this, because he would also send his regards and birthday wishes.”

 

”What is it?” He’s feeling a lot more sober now, and he doubts it’s the cake.

 

”Research. This has been my project for the last year.” Matt slides the folder over. ”You can look at it now, it’s yours, but I reccommend you wait until you and loverboy over here are alone. There’s a box that goes along with this, it’s on your bed.”

 

Keith smoothes his fingers over the front. The grain is a light tickle to his fingertips. ”Thanks, Matt. I’m sure. I’ll- I’ll let you know when I’ve looked it over.”

 

”We love you, Keith. You deserve everything you’ve ever wanted.” He reaches over and squeezes Keith’s hand. ”Now, I’m gonna go round up that bug on the couch and deposit it in it’s natural habitat, and head to the guest room.”

 

Keith and Hunk bid him a good night.

 

Keith is not good with surprises or not knowing. Hunk, blessedly, knows this.

 

”C’mon, b-day boy, it’s about time I whisked you away.”

 

”You’re so romantic. Oh, Hunk. Take me, I’m yours.”

 

* * *

 

 

His hands begin to shake as he reads through the file, more and more with each page. When he’s finished, he fumbles with closing it and it scatters everywhere.

 

”Keith? You ok?” Hunk rubs a comforting circle on Keith’s back.

 

”I- yeah. Yeah, I’m good. Uh, sorry, my hands just- Let’s pick it up.”

 

They collect each page and put them back in numbered order. Hunk is quiet. Keith appreciates the time to think.

 

”Did he tell you?” Keith’s voice is so rough he has to clear his throat. It feels like he swallowed sand.

 

Hunk plucks the file from Keith and lays it on his nightstand. ”Yeah we were talking in the kitchen.”

 

Keith takes in a deep breath, in through his nose, and slowly exhaled through his mouth. He can’t quite face Hunk yet, so he keeps his gaze down to the box at the edge of their bed. His fingers play with the hem of his shirt. ”And?”

 

Keith’s chin is titled up.

 

”If you’d like to try again, I’m all for it.”

 

* * *

 

 

Keith’s curled up in the reading chair by the fireplace. He’s always loved mornings, especially chilly ones. He’s started a fire going and is tending to it, mug of hot coffee in one hand, and the file on the armrest. The crackling of the wood as the fire splits it, uses the dead material to create warmth, is a calming hum in the otherwise sleepy household. Bundled up in a sweater, with fuzzy socks, he’s taking time to enjoy the morning and think.

 

What’s described in the file is detailed research on the comparison of human and galra genes. It answers the question of how their differences affect procreation, as well as providing strategies, both medicinal, and physical, to aide in it.

 

He takes a long sip of his coffee. It’s his favorite blend; a light roast, that’s earthy, bold, but also sweet and smooth. It reminds him of his husband. People don’t expect that the strongest, caffeine-wise, is also the sweetest.

 

It’s a comfort.

 

Hunk is a comfort.

 

In times of indecision, in things Keith can’t just charge at with all his energy and strength, Hunk is a solid foundation.

 

They’ve talked before about adopting. Keith is adamant, given his own childhood, that they’ll have a big, happy home, full of older children from the system. There is no doubt in Keith’s mind, with Hunk’s patience and proven ability to ease open even the toughest of shells, and Keith’s own personal experience with being an orphan, that they’ll make good parents.

 

It’s not the blood of the child that matters. The people he’s come to know and love, the people he shares a home with, they’re his family, just as much as Krolia, and his late father Joe.

 

The thing is that Keith wants pregnancy.

 

It’s something he’s only admitted to Hunk in privacy of their bedroom, and in a hushed voice.

 

But after a full year of trying, for naught, the idea scares him. The idea of hoping and dreaming and thinking it can happen... Is terrifying.

 

Hunk announces himself with a yawn. ”What’cha think’ ’bout, darling?”

 

”Pregnancy, Cassanova.”

 

”Tell me how you really feel.”

 

Keith snorts and extracts himself from the blanket and chair. He meets halfway, with a soft kiss. He fixes Hunk a cup of coffee, refilling his own mug too, and serves them up some cake.

 

”So, Keith. I want you to know this is your decision.” He reaches across the table and takes Keith’s hands in his, rubbing gentle circles with his thumb. ”We’re gonna adopt some older kids someday, so. If our first child, whatever age we decide for, is also adopted? What’s it matter? I- I know you wanna be pregnant and, don’t get me wrong, I’d love to see you go through it, the cute belly, and well, ok some not so cute stuff too, but, you get it. Yeah. Rambling. Sorry.” He takes a deep breath. ”It’s your body, and whatever you want, I want.”

 

”I want... I want to try. Having a baby. With you. Uh, like. Me having the baby.”

 

”Should we get started then? The early bird gets the worm after all.”

 

He’d be afronted, for Hunk’s sake, that Hunk compared his dick to a worm. At least, he would, if not for getting fucked face-down, hard, to where he’s crying into the pillow. Hunk could call it whatever he wanted, as long he keeps plowing into Keith.

 

Keith returns the favor.

 

* * *

 

 

Keith knocks on the front door. Part of him is nervous, he knows Matt is going to ask about it. But he’s also excited. It’s been awhile since he’s spent time with his friend, and even longer since he’s seen Adam. The two had, apparently, bonded over their romantic loss of Shiro, when Matt had come back to Earth. They grew close, apparently finding common interests inbetween both blasting and thirsting over Shiro. Which turned to love. Which ended up that the Holts gained another son.

 

”Mr. Holt, I hear you shuffling behind that door.”

 

There’s a pause.

 

”Mr. Holt? I’m sorry, he cannot come to the door right now. But Mr. Holt is available.”

 

”Ugh, Adam, open the door.”

 

”Mr. Garrett,” the door finally opens, revealing Adam who’s doning a shit-eating grin, ”Where are your manners?”

 

”Manners? Shit, I forgot those at home.” He snorts, entering through, and removing his shoes at the entrance. No one who’s known Shiro has survived with the ability to leave their shoes on indoors. Aside from Pidge. It makes Keith smile. Shiro’s brought them all together, and he’s happy to see how their lives have changed because of one man, from the big to the small.

 

”Clearly you remembered to pack your sarcasm.” Adam sweeps Keith into a tight hug. ”Good to see you, Keith. Matt’s showering, he said we can start on our salad while we wait.”

 

 

”What are you two doing, right in front of my salad?”

 

”Keith and I were just about to begin salacious make-outs. Pity you joined the room so soon.”

 

Keith snortles. That is, he chortles and snorts. These two are perfect for each other.

 

 

”So, Keith,” Matt says around a bite of sushi, gesturing with his chopsticks, ”How’s the baby-making? Hunk baked a bun in your oven yet?”

 

Adam chastises Matt.

 

Keith near chokes on a piece or nori. He gulps down the full glass of water. ”I, uh, haven’t checked.” His desire to not talk about it is greater than his instinct to not stuff more in his mouth after having almost choked.

 

”Haven’t checked? Keith, is everything alright? Is it.. Is it about the past year?”

 

Keith nods, happy to chew as much as the mouthfull will be chewed.

 

”Oh, man. I’m sorry. I didn’t- I didn’t mean to bring something sensitive up. I just.. Be careful, ok? You need prenatal care, y’know. So, it’s probably a good idea to know when you do get pregnant.”

 

Matt’s good about acting goofy if a mood needs to change. So, he makes short work of it. The rest of the dinner goes smooth. It’s jokes and laughter and all around a great evening spent with dear friends. Keith leaves happy, a little less burdened, but Matt’s word follow him out the door. He makes a stop at the convenience store by his house and picks up a few tests.

 

* * *

 

”Hunk!”

 

It’s 2am. Keith stashed the tests under their bed the minute he had gotten home. He wasn’t sure when he’d get the courage, and he didn’t want to excite Hunk for nothing. It wasn’t so much an intentional thing, to try it, but more like an after thought to bring a box with when he woke up needing to pee.

 

The first test came back positive. But Keith was tired and a year of anguish did not lend itself to believing the first positive. So, it was the second test, which also came back positive, that ignited the spark of excitement. Just to be extra sure, he brought out the other two tests. Four more later, and sure enough, Keith’s dream was legible on a stick he pissed on, in the form of two pink lines.

 

Hunk storms into the bathroom and looks around wildly. His stubble and puffy eyes make Keith feel bad for waking him.

 

”I’m ok, sorry. I just- Here.” He holds the test out.

 

Hunk looks confused for a minute, eyebrows scruching the skin between then, then his eyes widen and his lips draw back in the biggest smile Keith has seen, baring their wedding day.

 

”Keith.” He speaks breathless. He looks down to the test and back up.

 

”I know.” Keith’s own voice is getting scratchy, fading. He sees tears starting to form in Hunk’s eyes, before his vision is splotchy. It’s near instant, a dam that’s held back unimaginable amounts of emotion is released.

 

Hunk catches him, as he bends over, overcome by sobs.

 

They both end up on the floor, squeezing each other, tears and snot the least of their concerns.

 

He’s pregnant.

 

Keith is finally pregnant.

 

Which means he’d better get used to a snot-covered shirt.

 

* * *

 

 

He didn’t think pregnancy would be easy. But surely, he didn’t think it would be so hard. After weeks of having a pain in, well, in his pants, he seeks out Kolivan. Though the man is kept busy, even after the war’s official closure, he’s shown a willingness to free his schedule to Keith, especially since news of his pregnancy came out.

 

”That is your birthing canal widening and opening.”

 

Hunk looks to Keith, mouthing, ’what?’, then back to Kolivan, when it’s clear Keith can’t answer. ”I’m sorry, uh hold up. Are- Oh man, I can’t believe I’m asking this but, are saying that.. that Keith’s.. y’know. Where- where we made the baby. That it’s, widening?”

 

Keith’s face is set aflame. He blames it on a hot flash.

 

”Keith will not give birth from there, no. His body is preparing for where it will.”

 

”Wait, I’ve always thought that was a scar.”

 

 

 

”Dude, I can’t believe this whole time that was where the baby would come out.” Hunk squeezes his hand where he’s holding it, between the console. ”Remember all those times I ate you out and played with it because it was sensitive.”

 

Keith groans.

 

”I mean that was my secret, ’Drive Keith Wild’, trick. The little extra, the cherry on top, y’know? Eat your ass and then-”

 

”Hunk.”

 

”Ok, ok.” He sighs, drumming his fingers along the steering wheel. It’s a long red light. ”Listen, I’m just relieved there will be no births from... you know.”

 

”Hunk!” He huffs, letting his head thunk against the headrest. ”... Fine, me too.”

 

* * *

 

 

Keith gets big.

 

Hunk loves it, says as much. By word, ”You look amazing,” and by action. Any time he sees Keith, his hands rest on the baby bump. He takes a lot of photos, prints them out, and puts them in his wallet. Keith even overhears phone calls, where Hunk can barely get a breathe between his praise and adulation of his husband.

 

”Mom, you should see him! Wait, actually- There, just sent you a pic. I know, right? Wow, I’m so lucky. I can’t believe it.”

 

Keith had to walk away, it felt invasive to keep listening, and, while it gave him the good type of butterflies in his stomach, it was also embarassing.

 

As if he didn’t take every opportunity to do the same.

 

”Oh, hey Shiro.” Keith’s early rising and chipper morning presence has intensified since becoming pregnant. Which means he often catches Shiro, the only other happy-to-be-awake-at-this-hour person in the house, on his way for a jog.

 

”Hey, there. How goes it? The baby doin’ alright?” He always waits, holding his hand out, for Keith to give him permission to touch his belly. To which Keith always says yes. ”When she starts kicking, promise you’ll tell me?” He gets to his knees and rests his cheek against the bump. ”She can hear me, right? I think I read that it’s good to talk to them in utero.”

 

Keith chuckles, petting Shiro’s head, while the man coos nonsense at the baby.

 

”You and Hunk are going to be excellent fathers.”

 

”The two of you are. Parenting is a team effort. I don’t know of any team better than this one.” The one who saved the universe, and you as husbands, Keith hears without needing Shiro to say.

 

”I love him. He’s so kind. Patient. Full of love. I’m so lucky.”

 

Shiro chuckles warm and it tickles Keith’s belly.

 

He heads out to his jog with a big kiss to Keith’s forehead.

 

* * *

 

 

The day of his labour comes sooner than expected. A full two days sooner.

 

Keith’s in the kitchen, sipping on herbal tea, as Pidge tinkers with something beside him.

 

There’s a thing called nesting that happens in both humans and galra. For humans, it usually appears in the later part of pregnancy. For galra, it’s something that comes both with heats and pregnancy. Facing that, he’s really found himself being domestic. If the house is clean, like spotless clean. It’s a safe bet that it’s Keith doing.Because of that, he’s been known to fall asleep at the kitchen table, or on the couch in the living room. For his safety (that he not fall from a chair, or roll over and hit his head on the table), he’s not usually alone when outside the bedroom.

 

He loves everyone. But, really, sometimes he just wants quiet. Pidge is his favorite. She stays near, but doesn’t talk much. It’s a companionable silence. Also, his maternal instincts feel calmed by her presence. Not that he’d ever tell her as much, he’d barely recognized it himself. But she’s small, smaller than him, and has as muh youthful energy and glow to her as she had back in their paladin days.

 

Keith is content to nap by her side.

 

Except, before he can slip into sleep, he feels a wetness between his legs. He curses. ”Pidge, I- My water broke. Shit. Pidge.”

 

She may have looked absorbed in the task, but she’s quick to her feet to snatch her keys from the desk.

 

Pidge shepards him carefully into her car and drives so fast and skillfull that Keith thinks she could have flourished in Red.

 

* * *

 

 

Their baby girl is born healthy. For all the trouble she gave Keith, with morning sickness, cramps, cravings, and tears, her birth is an easy one. She waited, thankfully, long enough for the whole family to get there, but came into the world not soon after. Keith’s high pain tolerance did much to keep him grounded, but it still was the worst he’d ever been through.

 

Everyone gets a chance to see her, Stella So-ri Garrett, but Keith is far too gone with his own endorphins and the tire of labour, for him to say much, nor let them hold her for long.

 

Hunk, blessed Hunk, helps him to sleep, giving him a sponge bath, while Stella rests in Keith’s arms. ”We did it. I’m so proud of you. I love you. Now get some rest, I’ll hold her while you do, ok?”

 

”Hunk?” He is about to be taken by sleep, but he wants to say it now. ”I never dreamed of any of this. No robot lions, or space war. Or... you. Marrying you. And now, having your child. I- I’m.. I wouldn’t trade anything for this. If we had to fight a war to get here then.. that’s ok. I’m just. I’m so happy.”

 

”Me too, baby. Er- Not you Stella. My other baby.” He chuckles, pressing a soft kiss to Keith’s cheek. ”Now sleep. Tomorrow’s a new beginning, and I’d take no other co-pilot for this adventure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thank you to everyone for reading this! 
> 
> I’m so happy and fulfilled to complete this piece. : ) Please let me know what you think of it! I appreciate hearing all of tour wonderful comments. 
> 
> My next project is going to be an application submission piece for the NOVA sheith zine. I’ve also applied to the vldwhumpzine. So fingers crossed. 
> 
> I look forward to seeing you all in other works. Thanks for all the positivity. It’s kept my hope in the fandom alive.
> 
> Take care and have a great weekend <3
> 
> Love,  
> Socks.


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